“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, rolling my eyes, realizing I do sound like kind of a wimp. After all, technically I’m the monster down in the sewer. They should be more scared of me than I am of them.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it. Rest for a moment. You deserve it.” He leans over and kisses the top of my head.
“Okay,” I agree, rubbing my sore legs. I have to admit, it does feel nice to sit down. As he heads toward the edge of the platform, I pull out my phone. A quick game of the mobile version of Vampires vs. Zombies should cure any residual rat phobia. As I load up the game, I watch Jareth hop down onto the tracks and continue his journey, disappearing into the darkness, his heavy footsteps quickly fading into the distance.
I turn back to my game, trying not to think about where I am and what we’re doing. But the creepy noises seem to rise in volume, echoing through the station with relentless beats. Clanging, clunking, dripping, squeaking—every sound has me half-jumping out of my skin, and I pray Jareth won’t be gone much longer.
Suddenly, the other noises seem to vanish as my ears catch a low growl in the darkness, followed by a distinct scratching sound—like the skittering of claws on metal, but way too loud to be coming from your typical everyday, non-mutated rat.
What the hell… ?
Sucking in a breath, I slip my phone into my pocket and grab my stake as the noise grows louder and louder, closer and closer. I look down at the stupid piece of wood in my hand and wonder what exactly it is that I plan to do.
Oh why, oh why didn’t I bring a knife? Or a gun? Or some kind of other deadly weapon good for more than taking out vampires? And speaking of vampires, why on earth did I let my vampire boyfriend leave me here all alone in the first place? I mean, sure, I’m a kick-ass slayer chick who doesn’t need a man to protect me from harm. But, come on, it’s never a bad thing to have a partner in crime on the scene, in case of trouble, right?
“Jareth?” I hiss hopefully into the darkness, though in my heart I realize there’s a better chance of it being Freddy Krueger, sliding his nail glove against a pipe than my boyfriend. Especially since the sound’s coming from the opposite end of the tunnel. Fear pounds inside me as I rise from my bench, creeping to the edge of the platform, holding my stake in one hand and my flashlight in another. Half of me wonders if I should turn off the light—better hide myself from whatever’s coming around the corner. But the other half is too scared not to at least get a glimpse of what’s probably going to eat me for lunch.
I guide my flashlight along the tracks with a shaky hand, a lump the size of Texas in my throat. Where are you, creature of the subway? And what are you going to do?
After a few moments of searching, I take a step backward, trying to still my trembling body. Probably nothing, I tell myself. Just a rat. Or one of those alligators people flush down the toilet. Scary, but not deadly.
Finally steadying my breath, I turn around to head back to my bench…
…and find myself face to face with a pair of glowing red eyes.
9
I stagger backward, nearly falling off the edge of the subway platform in shock. The flashlight falls from my hand and clatters to the ground, bulb breaking and light extinguishing. Before I’m abandoned to total darkness, I’m treated to a flash-frame image of a nightmare, standing before me: four feet of dark, matted fur, dripping fangs, and razor-sharp claws.
I suddenly no longer give the slightest crap about rats.
“Stay back!” I cry, waving my hands blindly in front of my face, praying my eyes will adjust to the cave darkness. I try to remind myself that I’m a vampire—I’m really tough to kill—but, to be honest, the mantra doesn’t make me feel much better. After all, the creature might not have a wooden stake to drive through my heart, but it’s going to be pretty much impossible to regenerate if I’m chewed up and eaten alive—which, let’s face it, seems the most likely scenario in this case.
The creature snarls and snaps its teeth, its large ruby-red eyes the only clue to its exact whereabouts on the platform—which, currently, is way too close for comfort. Should I make a run for it? How far will I get with no light? After all, if I cracked my ankle or snagged it on a subway track I’ll be worse off than I am now.
So instead I tighten my grip on my stake. Better to stand my ground. Maybe I can at least hold it off until Jareth gets back.
“Good monster,” I whisper through the darkness, side-stepping away from the platform edge. “Just chill out. I’m not here to hurt you.” If only I’d brought a cookie.
Unfortunately it appears that the monster in question fails to have a strong grip on the English language. Or maybe it just doesn’t like the way I smell. Or does like it—’cause let’s be honest, I did eat raw hamburger for breakfast. It lunges at me, knocking me backward with the force of a speeding train. I crumble to the ground, trying to wrestle it off my body as it snaps at my neck. In addition to mangy fur, the creature seems to have a row of sharp quills on its back and I accidentally stab my hand on one of them, cool blood flowing down my arm. Damn it!
The creature freezes, sniffing the air. I use my momentary advantage to flip it over—accidentally dropping my stake in the process. After diving on top of the creature and pinning it down with my thighs, I try to keep it prostrate with one hand as I search the ground for my only weapon. My eyes are now adjusted enough to see the beast’s mouth seeking and finding my bleeding hand, its fangs sinking into my flesh.